


Coran's Crazy Crunch

by CBlue



Series: Food Truck Coran [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Beaches, Food Trucks, Gen, Surfing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-05
Updated: 2018-03-05
Packaged: 2019-03-27 07:28:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13876101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CBlue/pseuds/CBlue
Summary: Coran likes a lot of things. He likes chilling on the beach, making awesome food in his food truck, and most importantly, having internal monologues the size of a sequel.





	Coran's Crazy Crunch

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally on my Tumblr! Welcome to AO3, Food Truck Coran!

Coran had already turned on the stoves when he opened the truck up. The small ‘open’ sign was proudly displayed on the side. He took in a deep breath of that ocean air.

He always loved working the beach. It was something to do with that ocean mist that just made cooking so much more fun. Freshly cooked dishes being served out of small trucks on a Saturday was always how Coran envisioned his life going. Simply? Never.

With the help of his adoptive niece, he had been introduced to a fine group of young adults. They were passionate, dedicated souls. Each one with a talent. Coran always made sure to support each and every one as much as possible.

Except Lance.

Lance, the traitor, ran a rivaling food truck with his mother. The traditional dishes that flew from the small truck to the stomachs of beach campers were astonishing. The constant aroma of freshness automatically drawing anyone in. Coran watched with disdain as his small sandwich truck was, yet again, passed in favor of the more exotic truck parked neatly next to his own.

To be honest, Coran had known Lance’s mother since he first started serving the beach goers. Lance was an entirely different beast. He was the epitome of idle chatter. Despite the sarcastic remarks of his friends, he could charm the socks off an elephant.

Coran smiled. Despite his initial distrust of the boy, he had grown rather fond of him. On more than one occasion, the two had bonded over sharing recipes. It was a known fact that on slow hours, one truck would hold both cooks.

Lance was always more of the front man. Allura usually took over that for Coran, except today. Today Shiro, a chunk of chiseled granite crafted by stoic waves, was competing. All of their friend group would be there.

Save Lance.

His mother, bless her soul, had fallen ill the day before. Lance was charged with helping his sister in the truck. Coran smiled at the seemingly smooth ship they ran. They were seamless together. It was almost unnatural.

Coran dished out another order before looking out to the waves. He used to be there, until his knee had taken a smashing against the reef. His balance hadn’t been the same ever since. He beamed with pride as he saw Allura and the others in the distance.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Keith, a rather quiet young man who was in their circle of friends. Keith was the essence of a wolf. He believed in his lone status, but was truly better with his pack.

Coran smiled as he watched Keith keep Lance updated on how they were doing. They talked easily, throwing in a quip here and there. Upon first impression, one might think they were always in heated arguments. After knowing them, Coran soon realized that there squabbles meant nothing more than light banter.

With the sound of busy people, and the sight of the sun glistening off the ocean, Coran took the next order.


End file.
